Child of Mine
by Feliciraptor
Summary: That fic where Alan Grant is Owen Grady's father . . . but doesn't know it yet.
1. Chapter 1

Samantha Grady watched Alan Grant's back as he left the restaurant, still too shocked and numb to speak. Unconsciously, her hand went to her belly, either in a protective gesture, or to seek comfort, she wasn't sure.

Alan Grant had just called off their relationship. Their longtime courtship.

Because. Because Alan Grant didn't want to be a father.

Ironically, he chose to do it the very day that Samantha's pee strip turned blue. He was going to be a father whether he wanted it or not.

He just didn't know it.

Samantha tried to tell him, but when she'd tried to bring it up, Alan had stopped her. He'd assumed she was bringing up the children argument again, and with good reason. That had been the major rock in their relationship for the past half year. Samantha wanted children. And of course Alan didn't. She thought that she could change his mind, or that after he found out he was having one he would be more accepting of the idea, but he hadn't even let Samantha tell him the news. Instead, he'd called things off between them, and Samantha had been too shocked to stop him and tell him what she'd meant to.

Samantha wondered if she should run after him and demand that he listen. But she wondered if it would make any difference? Grant had told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't and would never want children. She couldn't be sure how he would react. Suppose he tried to make her get rid of it?  
Anger flared up in Samantha and her nails dug into her shirt, over her stomach. Suddenly she didn't want to tell Grant anymore. Who the hell was he to walk away from her? She didn't need him. Her child didn't need a father who didn't want him. Samantha would raise this baby on her own. She would love it enough for the both of them.

And she hoped, that one day, down the road, after he put on a few years and grew the hell up, that Alan Grant would change his mind about wanting kids. Because when that day came, then, and only then, would she tell him that he had a child. And by then it would be too late for him. Her child wouldn't need Alan anymore than she did.


	2. Chapter 2

Owen Grady wasn't the happiest kid growing up, but how could he be with a jerk for a father, who couldn't be bothered to find out about his existence? Samantha made sure Owen knew this, from the time he was old enough to ask her why he didn't have a daddy like the other kids did.

He'd cried when Samantha told him that his daddy hadn't wanted him, but his tears had abated when she insisted that she loved him enough to make up for his daddy not being there. Well, not totally abated. But they'd lessened a little, and probably not just because Samantha had been smothering his face in her bosom.

He was a handful growing up, but in a good way. He was whip smart and full of energy, always running from one adventure to the next. Owen got into little bits of trouble here and there, but mostly he was a good kid. There was only one major grievance that Samantha had with him. He was bound and determined to break the no dinosaur rule.

Her friends all thought she was crazy for implementing the no dinosaur rule, but it was for Owen's own good. She didn't want him taking up that particular interest of his father's.

So naturally Owen became obsessed with the dinosaurs, checking out books about them from the library and memorizing everything about them until Samantha told him the reason why she didn't want him learning about dinosaurs.

When his interest in them abruptly died and she didn't hear a thing about them for another ten or fifteen years, Samantha realized that she should have just told him about that from the start.


	3. Chapter 3

Owen's mother might never have spoken his father's name in front of him, but Owen knew who he was all the same. When he was in first grade he'd gone and found his birth certificate. Under father, typed up neatly, was the name: Alan Grant.

Later on, he'd looked him up on the internet. There were a lot of Alan Grants but only one who was a famous dinosaur bone digger upper. Later on, Owen learned that the correct term was paleontologist, but that wasn't for a long time. Not until fifth grade, when his science class did a big study on dinosaurs.

Only a couple years later, what came to be known as the San Diego Incident occurred, where that T-Rex ran rampant through the city, and it was revealed that Ian Malcolm, the famous crazy math guy who'd claimed that some big company had bought an island and was cloning dinosaurs on it, was proven to have been telling the truth all along. And suddenly that crazy story that Owen had read about his father having survived attacks from real life T-Rexes and velociraptors wasn't just a story anymore, it was real, and Owen didn't know what to think, because from the way Malcolm told it, Alan Grant was a hero who risked his life to save two kids, but Mom always told him his father hated kids.

He just didn't know what to think.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he started reading more and more, always at the library computer, never where his mom might find out, but over time, he started to get a more complete picture of what kind of man his father is. It clashed violently with how his mom always made him sound, but there it is. And he knew from experience that not everything his mother told him was 100 percent true.

When Owen was in high school, he met Alan Grant for the first time, unbeknownst to either his mother or his father. Grant was lecturing at a nearby college and Mom was working most of the weekend, so Owen seized his chance.

And despite how ambiguous his feelings about Alan Grant as a person were, he found himself spellbound by the lecture Grant gave, about velociraptor intelligence, and vocalization, and how raptors might very well have become the dominant life form on the planet if not for whatever events that caused their species to die out.

Apparently he was the only one interested in the lecture itself. At the end, when Grant took questions, nearly every hand in the audience was raised, but when Grant told everyone who only wanted to ask questions about Jurassic Park or the San Diego Incident to put their hands down, Owen's was the only one that remained in the air.

"Yes, young man in the Firefly quote shirt," said Alan, causing Owen to glance down at the stegosaurus and T-Rex shirt he was wearing, then back at his father.

"There's no way you could read the stegosaurus's speech bubble from all the way up there," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Alan's smile was warm and tolerant. "No. But I'm familiar with the quote."

"You like Firefly?"

"I haven't actually watched the series, but people insist on quoting the dinosaur part to me so much, I finally made one of my grad students explain it to me. He has that shirt too," Alan said. "Did you have a question about the lecture?"

Owen blushed, embarrassed to have gotten off track in front of so many people. And uncomfortable with having such a casual, friendly interaction with his father like he'd just done.

"I – er, you said. I mean –" Owen grimaced.

"Easy, son," Alan said, making Owen automatically stiffen. "No need to be nervous."

Self loathing sprang up Owen. What was he doing, babbling in front of Alan Grant, like an idiot? Owen Grady did not babble or stutter. He could BS his way through being called on by any teacher. Why was he suddenly losing all his poise now?

He took a deep breath and a moment to steady himself, then he asked the question that had been on his mind throughout the lecture. Well, one of many questions that had been on his mind.

"When you say that raptors were capable of sophisticated vocalization, do you mean to say that something like a spoken language would have been possible for them?"

"That is exactly what I mean to say," Grant told him.

"What level of sophistication do you theorize they would have been capable of?" Owen wanted to know. "Are we talking about something like dogs, where it's pretty much instinctual, you know, warning growls, submissive whines, sharp barks, and the like, or frequency modulated whistles and burst-pulse sounds, like a dolphin?"

"There's no reason why either of those categories should be mutually exclusive, Mr . . ." Grant trailed off, prompting him for a name.

Owen hesitated just a moment before answering. Honestly. And watching like a hawk to see what his father's reaction would be.

"Owen. I mean Grady. I'm Owen Grady."

Alan nodded and gave him an easy smile, giving absolutely zero indication that the name was at all significant to him, and reconfirming what Owen had come to believe: that Alan Grant wasn't aware of his existence. "There's no reason why either of those categories should be mutually exclusive, Owen," Alan said. "In fact, it would make more sense for the velociraptor language to be something closer to a combination of the two than either one alone. They were very instinctual creatures, so it would make sense that much of their meaning would have been communicated through tone, in growls and snarls that, to an outsider, would only sound ferocious, but to a member of the pack, would hold greater meaning. But, given the wide range of sounds their larynxes should have been able to make, considering the size of their vocal chambers, it is very likely that raptors expanded their range of sounds to a language more like a dolphin's or even a bird's."

"But if that was the case, would they be capable of working with, say, another pack of velociraptors? If their communication was actually a language and not just instinctual, then wouldn't it have to be learned? And wouldn't that isolate different populations of raptors?"

"Possibly," Alan agreed, "and this is still all speculation, but the language barrier could very well have been overcome by different raptor groups by observation and mimicry. Their brains were large enough to enable problem solving, after all."

"Yes, but if that's the case, would it be possible for another dinosaur, say something like an achillobator to figure out what they were saying and manage to be accepted into the pack?" Owen wanted to know.

"Well, an achillobator is considerably larger than a velociraptor, even if they are related –"

"Not specifically an achillobator. Any other dinosaur, if it managed to decode the velociraptor language, and was a capable, competent hunter. Your whole premise is based around velociraptor intelligence. What I'm wondering is, could another apex predator, who spoke the language, be integrated into the pack? Would the velociraptors be smart enough to see the potential benefits of co-opting another predator?"

Grant took a moment to think this over. "It is possible, though I can't say with any certainty how likely it is, considering that velociraptors would instinctively think of anything that wasn't a raptor as either prey or a threat. But by speaking the raptor language, another dinosaur very well might give a raptor enough pause to avoid becoming its next meal. Of course, there exists the problem of how another dinosaur would manage to learn the raptor language, since that would most likely require close proximity to them in the first place. And the fact that they wouldn't have had the vocal capabilities of using that language. So, in short, it's possible, but not likely. Thank you for your question. Are there any others?"

Grant looked over the auditorium. So did Owen. When no one else raised a hand, he raised his again.

"Yes, Owen? Another question?" Grant said with a tolerant smile.

"From what I've read, there seem to be two schools of thought about velociraptor family groups. Some paleontologists think they raised their young, but most think they abandoned them. If their parents abandoned them, doesn't that mean that everything they learned, they learned by themselves? And doesn't that cut down on the complexity of their language, since there's a big difference between learning a language and having to make one up?"

Rather than look annoyed, like Owen expected him to, Grant actually looked pleased by the question. And Owen wasn't quite sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was having lunch with Alan Grant, and his grad student, Billy Brennan.

And it pissed Owen off but he found himself liking Grant. The man was kind, and funny, and seemed like everything Owen had always wanted in a father. So many times during that meal, he almost blurted out who he was, but fear always held him back, sometimes right at the last second.

"You're biking home?" Alan asked, after the meal came to a close and they walked out of the university's cafeteria, and Owen walked over to the bike rack. "You live in town?"

"No. Two towns over," Owen said.

"No kidding? And you biked all this way just to come to my lecture?"

Owen shrugged, embarrassed.

Alan smiled warmly.

"We can give you a ride home," Billy said. "There's enough room in the back for your bike."

"No!" Owen said quickly, too quickly. He struggled to recover. "My mom, she doesn't know I came."

"Oh," Alan said knowingly. But he didn't know the half of it. And he wouldn't for another decade.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite being given Alan Grant's card, and an invitation to write to him with any questions, or for a reference letter if he wanted to go to the university where Alan was teaching, Owen never took him up on that offer. Money was tight in his small family, and Owen didn't feel like going massively into debt to go to an out of state college. Instead he went into the navy, which would pay for his college after he got out, and even offered classes that would count toward his degree while he was serving. And Alan went to Isla Sorna, but that was another story entirely.

Navy life suited Owen, much to many people's surprise. Physical training and the opportunity to put it to good use. Two things that didn't go hand in hand often enough, as far as he was concerned, and it gave him a chance to do something worthwhile and make money while he figured out what he wanted to do with his life.

He got to see the world and learn a lot of things that he wouldn't have otherwise. But it wasn't all fun and adventure. There were a few times when his life was on the line. There Owen learned just how cool he could be under fire, and how despicable other humans could be if they put their mind to it.

A little over half of a decade in the service saw the completion of about half of his bachelor's degree. He was able to get all the General Education courses out of the way, and was even able to take a few specialized courses. Most of those dealt with biology and animal behavior, but he managed to sneak a paleontology class in there too. He still had no idea just what he wanted to do with his life, but he was forced to take the next step in figuring that out when an injury put an end to his navy career, or at least put it on hold. In a firefight with some pirates down in Somalia, Owen got a little too close to an explosion. He woke up three hours later in the med bay, unable to hear anything out of his right ear.

The injury, while not permanent, got him an honorable discharge, and it was then that he was approached by Jurassic World, or rather Vic Hoskins, who came armed with a video of that day he'd met Dr. Grant, and the questions he'd asked at the end of the lecture, of all things.

"That's you on the tape there, ain't it, Mr. Grady?" Hoskins said with an easy, slightly greasy smile on his face as he regarded Own. "A member of my department served in the navy with you. He flagged this tape for me after he recognized you in it."

"Why?" Owen asked. He met Hoskin's hungry stare with an impassive expression.

"Because all your questions were extremely relevant to the project we're working on, and it was clear that even at age . . . how old were you then, nine?"

"Fifteen. But close."

"Even at that age, you were able to impress Alan Grant. And even though he's got a soft spot for kids, he is not so easily impressed when it comes to academia."

Owen was even less impressed with how this conversation was going. "What exactly is this all about?"

Hoskins leaned in close to his face. Owen could smell the onions on his breath, from whatever he'd eaten for lunch that day. But his words got to Owen, even through the stench, and were enough to get his full attention.

"How would you like to test them theories of yours?"


	5. Chapter 5

Alan Grant knew about Jurassic World's velociraptor project. As the world's leading expert on those monsters, he was the first one they'd tried to recruit. Alan had declined, quite forcefully. Forcefully enough that they only called him the one time about the job. He half expected whatever idiot they did get to head up the project would give him a call and try to pick his brain, but that call never came.

He never went to Jurassic World. Not for lack of trying from the park. Every year they offered him consultation jobs, free park tickets, and all expense paid trips amongst other things. He wasn't fooled by their illusion of control. Alan was well aware that the park was another disaster waiting to happen, and when it did, it would be even worse than anything they'd seen before. This wouldn't be dinosaurs running amok when there were less than a dozen people on an island before the park opened, or a solitary T-rex running down the street in the middle of the night when most of the city was asleep. This would be twenty thousand people trapped amongst uncontrollable carnivores and Alan wanted no part of it.

When the story broke, he wasn't the slightest bit surprised about anything, except maybe that it took so long to happen. His phone was suddenly flooded with calls from other Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna survivors, asking if he'd seen what happened, and reporters wanting his opinion. He watched the train wreck of a media circus on the TV, as the full story came out. And he saw some familiar faces in the news.

There was Malcom, who hadn't been at Jurassic World when it happened, or ever, smart man, but who was more than happy to talk about chaos and the inevitability of all that happening, and there were some familiar pompous idiots he knew worked for Ingen. Claire Dearing, who he recognized by voice, since she'd called him a number of times, trying to get him to their damned park. And then a surprise, one that he barely recognized. Owen Grady, Head Velociraptor Trainer was the label that flashed across the screen. Without it, there was no guarantee that Alan would have recognized him as the slightly awkward, but clearly intelligent and spirited young man who he'd met some years ago at one of his lectures. Alan couldn't begin to guess how he'd ended up at Jurassic World, in charge of one of the most dangerous predators the world had ever known.

It was then that Alan got the call that would change his life, rocking it right down to its very foundation.

He almost ignored it when he didn't recognize the number, thinking that it was just some reporter. But on the off chance that it was someone important, he did answer it.

"Alan Grant speaking."

"This is all your fault!"

Alan held the phone away from his ear, wincing from the unexpected shout. "I'm sorry, who is this?"

"What, you don't recognize my voice?" The words were slightly slurred, like the woman on the other end had been drinking. "I only wanted to marry you about thirty years ago. Then you walked out on me because you didn't want children!"

That gave Alan pause. Then it clicked. "Samantha? Samantha Grady?"

"Yes. It's me. And this is all your fault!"

"What exactly is all my fault?"

"It's your fault that our son is going back to that god forsaken dinosaur island and refuses to come home!"


	6. Chapter 6

When Alan hung up the phone, his vision swam. The news that Samantha had sprung on him had been earth shattering, her accusations world tilting.

 _He had a son._

He, Alan Grant, had a son. A child of his own. Who was fully grown, and after having been raised by Samantha Grady probably hated his guts.

Owen Grady was his son. Owen Grady, who'd attended one of his lectures, years ago, biking two towns over to come see him. He'd had lunch with him and had been impressed by him, but had never even suspected. His son worked with velociraptors. His son had gone back to Isla Nublar for his velociraptors.

"Oh God. Oh God."

Alan moved to sit with his head between his knees, feeling even more overcome than he did upon seeing his first living dinosaur. His world had just been tilted on its end and he didn't know what to do.

"Help," he realized. "I need help."

He picked up the phone again, poised to call Ellie, the one person who had always been there for him without fail. Even after their relationship failed, they'd remained close friends. She would be there for him now, he knew, but at the last minute he stopped.

Ellie would be out of her depth here. Her children weren't even teens yet and they'd grown up their whole lives with her, and her husband both together. They loved her, there was no doubt of that. No, as much as it grated on him, there was someone better to call for this, Alan knew. He knew someone whose children were full grown and frequently at odds with him.

"Dr. Grant!" Malcolm greeted him entirely too cheerfully for any situation, let alone one that was happening on a day involving living dinosaurs in any way shape or form. "Just the man I wanted to talk to. Can you believe the security footage they just released? With the raptors attacking the Indominous to defend those humans? In some ways, raptors are the quintessence of chaos –"

"Malcolm, I need help."

Malcolm instantly shut up and was quiet for a good few seconds. Then. "Tell me you're not down on Isla Nublar."

"No, I'm not. Yet. Malcolm, I have a son."

"You have a what?" Malcolm sounded floored.

"I have a son. Owen Grady is my son. I just found out and I don't know what to do."

"Whoa, wait, that crazy velociraptor wrangler is your son? You have a son? And you just found out? Whoa, whoa, whoa, Grant. Alright. Alright, listen to me."

"I'm listening. I'm listening. Tell me, what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Ok, you're going to need to break this down. This isn't something you can approach all at once."

That made sense. That helped. Breaking the process to solving this down, like the steps of an excavation. You didn't just grab a shovel and start wrecklessly digging up a paleontological site. You made preparations, marked off sections, then removed the dirt layer by layer.

"Ok. What do I do first?" Grant asked.

"First," said Malcolm, "you pour yourself a tumbler full of whiskey and drink the whole damn thing."

"Ok," said Grant. He stood up. "Ok. I can do that."

The next hour was filled with snippets of advice from Malcolm in no real order. Grant resorted to taking notes during his crash course of how to hopefully fix things with his son.

"He's not a teenager, is he? He looks at least college age on the TV. That's good. He might actually listen to reason, as long as he's not a teen.

"Do you know anything about him? No? Then do a Google search on him, find out if he's on Facebook and Twitter, learn everything you can about him, but whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not admit to doing any of this. He'll see it as an invasion of his privacy and throw a tantrum.

"Be prepared for everything to be all your fault. Because that's how kids see things, it's like they've got tunnel vision about this kind of thing."

Those were some of the bits of advice that Malcolm had to offer, reinforcing what Alan already knew. This was going to be damn hard.

But this was something he had to do. Alan Grant wasn't the kind of man who'd abandon a kid, let alone one that was his very own. Owen Grady might hate his guts, and that hate might not be entirely justified, but Alan was going to do his damnedest to be there for him now, because Owen was _his_.

From what he'd gathered from his thunderous argument with Samantha in her drunken state, Owen was one of the Jurassic World employees who'd returned to Isla Nublar to try to save as many of the dinosaurs as they could, and restore order to the park, if possible. So that's where Alan was headed.

He wondered if Samantha would call Owen and tell him what had just happened between them. That argument had been perhaps the worst, most vicious verbal fight Alan had ever been in, in his entire life. The towering rage he'd felt upon realizing what Samantha had been keeping from him, had him shaking, he was so furious. He'd screamed at Samantha like he'd never screamed at anyone before, cursing her stupidity and selfishness, refusing to accept her blame. It didn't matter that at the point they'd been together and broken up, he hadn't wanted children. There was no excuse on earth or in hell for her keeping something like that from him. Owen was his son. He'd had a right to know about his existence.

If he had, he would have done right by his son. Alan knew he would have, whatever Samantha believed. He might have been reluctant at first, but he would have come around. The evidence was there to prove it, in how he'd warmed to Lex and Tim Murphy. With them he didn't even have the added bond of being related, or watching them grow up. Not that he had the bond of watching Owen grow up either. He'd never have that now. Just the thought of that started making Alan angry all over again.

"You're going to Isla Nublar, aren't you?" Malcolm asked in between spouting out random bits of advice.

"Yes. I'll talk my way into getting there."

"You won't have to talk too hard. All you really have to do is offer to consult on how to handle this dino disaster and you're in. Funny. I never thought I'd see the day when either you or I went back to one of those damn dinosaur islands," Malcolm said.

"Neither did I," Grant admitted.

"You're making the right call. Going there to see him as soon as you found out, like this. It's the right thing," Malcolm said. "Even if he is on a dangerous dinosaur island where you're both likely to get eaten."

"That's not helpful, Ian."


	7. Chapter 7

The island wasn't in as bad of shape as most people thought it was. Contrary to popular belief, the security measures that the park had invested in were among the best in the world. They'd had to be in order to last as long as they had.

Things were designed for safety, both for humans and the assets. It was only when those idiots created the Indominous Rex and put it in that stupidly small paddock with too many cut corners, and no idea what they'd actually put in the cage that everything went to hell.

Aside from Paddock 11 and the Aviary, all the other enclosures were structurally sound. And with the exceptions of Paddock 9, which Claire had released the T-Rex from, and the raptor enclosure, which was empty, all the other enclosures were locked down. The problem now, was that many of the dinosaurs in their locked down habitats would be starving to death.

Some of them would be ok indefinitely, like the full grown herbivores, who were in sprawling, fenced off areas. Not permanently mind, since they ate so much, so quickly, that their habitat couldn't sustain them full time, and their diets were supplemented by hay and other vegetable matter, but at least they would be ok for awhile.

Other dinos, like the meat eating dilophosaurs, or the babies at the Gentle Giants petting zoo, who had an indoor facility, would be starving to death.

So, after signing twenty-seven forms waiving any rights to sue the Masrani Corp or Ingen for any future damage or injuries inflicted between now and whenever they got their shit together and started cleaning up their mess, Owen and fifty-six other Jurassic World employees were returning to Isla Nublar to save as many dinosaurs as they could.

Claire had not been happy to see him go. Her nephews, if possible, were even unhappier. But they all knew why it had to be done. Owen was going back for Blue. He was the one with the best chance of bringing her home to the raptor enclosure safely.

Originally, there were only twenty-two people signed on to go, and most of them employees at Gentle Giants who loved their babies and would do anything to save them. After word got around that The Owen Grady, badass extraordinaire was returning, the number of people going more than doubled. Owen's story was making its rounds, and inspired a lot of confidence in his coworkers. Lowery had spread around to everyone how Owen had called just about everything that was going to happen during the whole mess, and how him getting Cassandra Truthed repeatedly was the reason why everything had gone to hell in a hand basket.

That was how Owen found himself suddenly heading the Reclamation Team, as they'd started calling themselves. It was suddenly up to him to develop all the plans for taking back the island, which the Masrani Corporation should have been doing, but were too busy twiddling their thumbs with their lawyers to do.

And to be honest, Owen didn't mind in the least that this was falling down to him. At least this way he could make sure it was done right.

First order of business, he decided, was to retake the park's control room in the operations building. That way they would have access to all the park's security and surveillance systems, including cameras and electric implant tracking. The easiest way to do that, would be to take a small team in via helicopter and land at the operations building itself. Power would still be running since as much as possible they'd used eco friendly options like solar panels and geothermal energy. After they used their tracking systems to see where the T-Rex and Blue were, they could move about more easily, just taking care to avoid the areas where the loose raptor and rex were, while keeping an eye on the sky for any opportunistic dimorphodons and pterosaurs.

For that first small team, Owen selected those with experience with firearms. Other ex-military like himself, or men and women who were both physically fit and knew how to handle a gun. And Lowery. Because he was the only one who knew how to operate all the systems who was in the Reclamation Team, but honestly, if Owen had his first choice of anyone in the world for the job, Lowery would have been it. He knew his stuff and he'd been the last to leave when the park was being evacuated, staying behind to help Claire and Owen. You couldn't buy loyalty like that.

"We'll be using live ammo for the flyers," Owen said when he briefed his team, and quickly held up a hand to forestall any protests. "The temporary measures that they set up for all the pterosaurs and dimorphodons we managed to sedate during the outbreak will be stretched to the limit by now, and if we try to add anymore of them into those cages without knocking out everything that's already in them, we'll have another disaster on our hands. And we don't have the means or time to contain any new ones."

"We could just fire knockout darts at them and leaves them to wake up again, then knock them out again next time we see them," someone suggested. Owen took note of their face and resolved to make sure that person didn't make it to the island until the last group was brought over. He preferred to have everything under control before letting the idiots back into the park.

"We do that and they'll learn to stay outside our shooting range, and we'll never get them all rounded up," Owen said. "The island can't be considered secure until every last one of the flyers is accounted for, and we can't afford to waste time. Not when our supply lines are so uncertain."

"But," someone else tried to interrupt.

"If you have a problem with that decision, you don't need to come," Owen said. "We can't save everything. If we try, we'll end up losing a lot more. Better to put down a couple dozen confirmed killers than to let every damn dinosaur on the island starve to death, which might very well happen if our team fails."

And so it was with live ammo in their guns that the first team went in.

Their luck was a mixed bag. For the most part things went smoothly. The first team landed down at the operations building without incident. There had been no sign of the T-rex or Blue, and while they'd seen a few pterosaurs, they'd been out of range. The team got inside the cover of the building, but kept their guns at the ready just in case there were any unpleasant surprises lurking inside. But no raptor or pack of rabid compys popped up to wreak havoc on them like a bad B movie.

Lowery booted up the system while Barry and two others kept watch at the door, guns always at the ready.

"Alright, we are go. Let's see, according to the tracking implants the Rex has made her way to the old park in the restricted area. So for now, she's safely out of our way. There are sixteen pterosaurs and twenty-two dimorphodons out of containment. Actually, make that fifteen pterosaurs and twenty dimorphodons. Computer's showing three of their implants grouped together in the mosasaurus tank, so the smart money is, they got eaten. And as for Blue . . ."

That's where their luck wavered.

"Shit."

"What?" Owen asked.

"No reading from her implant. It must have gotten shorted out during the fight with the Indominous," Lowery said. "That can happen when a dino suffers some kind of trauma or impact. Happens to the pachys on a semi-regular basis."

"Damn," Owen said. "This just got a lot more dangerous."

"Well we can try to limit the danger," Lowery said. "I can pull up security footage from all over the park. It will probably take awhile but I'll see if I can find her on any of the feeds."

"Focus on the cameras between us and Gentle Giants," Owen ordered. "That's where we're headed first."

Lowery and several of the others who would be staying in the control room scoured the footage but weren't able to find Blue on any camera showing the path between them and the Gentle Giants petting zoo.

"Keep going over it. And keep an eye on the rex's implant too, make sure she doesn't come stomping back this way," Owen said, then ordered the other team to move out.

They made it to the petting zoo without incident, and once they were in, were greeted by dozens of hungry babies. They had their work cut out for them, getting all the babies fed, and then they were off to the next closest exhibit. Lowery and the others back at operations were constantly checking the cameras, looking for any sign of Blue on them as Owen's team made their way from one enclosure to the next, but the raptor proved elusive. Owen was mostly glad about that. Though he was anxious about his raptor's safety, he didn't relish the thought of having to deal with her in front of a group. Most likely he knew he'd have to, because there was no chance that his co-workers were going to let him face a raptor alone, but he'd still prefer to deal with her himself. Or with just him and Barry, since Barry knew how to conduct himself around the raptors. But Owen had learned a long time ago that more often than not, you didn't get what you wanted.


	8. Chapter 8

As Malcolm had predicted, Jurassic World was only too happy to have Alan Grant, dinosaur disaster veteran extraordinaire on board with cleaning up their mess. Alan, however, got a surprise when he arrived in Costa Rica.

"Malcolm? What are you doing here?" he asked in shock.

Malcolm gave him an easy smile and slapped his back. "What any friend would do."

Owen, they discovered upon arriving at the Jurassic World staff's temporary base on the mainland, had already gone back to Isla Nublar, along with a small team. A second team had just left, with more supplies, since they all intended to stay there that night, and every night for the foreseeable future. Claire Dearing, who was in contact with the island, and coordinating with the control room, made arrangements for them to join the third team, which would be leaving in several hours, if everything went smoothly. She corralled Grant and Malcolm into having coffee with her, to go over the reclamation team's strategies with them and to see if they had any insights. Grant did his best to be helpful in that regard, since that was ostensibly why he was there, but in light of his real reason for coming, it was hard for him to stay focused on the task at hand, and he couldn't resist asking some questions related to his personal reasons for being there.

"You and Owen Grady were two of the last ones to leave the island, right Ms. Dearing?" he asked.

"Yes, Dr. Grant," Claire said. "My nephews, myself, Mr. Grady, and Lowery Cruthers were the last ones to be evacuated."

"What sort of man would you say Owen Grady is?"

Claire shifted, looking a bit defensive. "I assume you're wondering because he's the one heading the reclamation team? Well, I can assure you that there's no one better for the job. It wasn't one that he asked for so much as one which he was unanimously elected for by his peers."

"I'm not trying to criticize him," Alan clarified. "I just want to know what sort of man he is. So, you say he's well liked?"

Claire settled down slightly. "Very well liked, and for very good reason. He's the sort of man who you can count on for anything."

"How long have you two been dating?" Malcolm asked knowingly, causing Claire to splutter and Alan to look at Claire in a new light. This woman was dating his son?

He had a hard time believing it, but from Claire's embarrassed reaction it was clearly true. To be fair, he barely knew anything about Owen, so it shouldn't have been surprising, but from what little he did know, Claire didn't seem like someone who he'd get along with, much less be in love with. Easy going was the impression Alan had gotten of Owen after finding out everything he could about him online. There wasn't as much information about him as Alan had hoped there'd be, and most of it was supplied by his friends who tagged him in pictures and the like.

Claire Dearing seemed like the opposite of easy going.

"My relationship with Owen Grady has absolutely nothing to do with his competence in this situation," Claire said once she'd collected herself. "Ask anyone who worked at the park who the best person to head up this situation is and you will get the same answer every single time. And, not that it's any of your business, but we started dating after getting back to the mainland."

A relationship born out of a stressed situation. Not always the most stable, Alan knew, but who was he to criticize?

"So Owen is well liked by his peers?" he asked, getting the conversation back toward where he wanted it.

Claire looked at him gaugingly. "Yes. Very."

"And he actually managed to control four velociraptors?" Well, Alan knew that to be a fact. He'd seen Owen sic the raptors on the Indominous Rex on the security footage. But he was hoping for some elaboration on the matter.

"Owen would tell you that he doesn't control them, that it's a relationship based on respect," Claire said. "I would tell you it's a bit more complicated than that. He doesn't control them, per say. But he does, to some extent, have their loyalty. Two of them died defending him."

And the remaining one teamed up with a T-Rex to take the Indominous Rex down. Alan still had trouble wrapping his head around that. Then again, he was still having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Owen Grady was his son. He still didn't know how to go about handling this. Malcolm assured him that he was doing the right thing by coming down here as soon as he knew, but that didn't help Alan figure out the next step any.

He knew that he had to be mindful of the fact that Owen had a job to do here. Alan planned to do whatever he could to help with that. Whether he agreed with the principals that the park was founded on or not, the fact remained that Owen was invested in trying to straighten this mess out and make Isla Nublar as safe as possible again. So Alan would assist in that effort.

Then when he had the chance, he'd speak with Owen in private. He was pretty sure Owen knew he was his father, but Samantha hadn't said that in so many words. Owen hadn't seemed hostile toward him during their one meeting, however, which Alan would have expected of him, so there was the possibility that he had no idea, and Alan would have to tell him. And after being raised to hate him for so many years by Samantha, there was the genuine possibility that Owen would want nothing to do with him now. And if that was the case, Alan would just have to find a way to change his mind. Unless Owen flat out banished him from the reclamation efforts, Alan would still do what he could to help there. He would keep an eye on Owen for as long as he could, and make sure he stayed safe. And he didn't just mean while they were on the island.

Whether Owen liked it or not, Alan was his father. And Alan Grant might not have ever wanted a child until he found out that he had one, but what it came down to was that he did want Owen now. So much that it was like a physical ache in his chest. He would do whatever he had to in order to be close to his son and keep him safe.


	9. Chapter 9

One of Owen's eyebrows went up when he learned the reclamation team was getting a few new members from outside the park staff. His other eyebrow joined the first when he learned that one of them was Dr. Alan Grant.

"Say that again," he requested when Claire told him.

"Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Ian Malcolm will be joining you shortly. They just boarded the helicopter and are en route as we speak," Claire said. She eyed him appraisingly. "Owen, Do you know Dr. Grant?"

Owen tried to figure out just how much Claire knew about his relationship with Grant, but her expression didn't give away much. He finally shrugged. "Not really. I met him once at a lecture he gave when I was a teenager, but I haven't seen or spoken to him since. We're pretty much strangers."

Owen was well aware that this wan't the kind of thing that should be kept from one's significant other, and he decided that he'd tell Claire about it next time they were face to face. This wasn't the kind of conversation to be had over a phone while he was in the middle of a mission.

The reclamation effort was going smoothly, despite there still being no sign of Blue. The Rex was still off away from the main park, but they would be correcting that shortly. Owen wanted them to have eyes on Blue before they went after the other dangerous predator on the loose. But in the meantime, all the animals that weren't free range had been fed.

"I'm taking Barry and going out to look for Blue," Owen said to Claire. "Since she's not showing on any of the cameras, we know she's not back at the raptor paddock, but there is a chance she could be near there. I'm also going to swing by my bungalow on the off chance that she found her way there."

"Why would she? She's never been there before," Claire wondered.

"No, but if she stumbled across it, she'd probably find it interesting because that place smells like me. It might have been enough to hold her interest."

An hour and a long hike later, Owen found himself proven right, when he and Barry reached his bungalow. It was clear that something at least had been there. The door had been broken in and was hanging off only one hinge.

"Let me go first," Owen said to Barry.

"No arguments here," Barry said as Owen slowly stepped forward.

"Blue? Are you in here, Blue? I'm coming in."

Owen didn't expect an answer, but he wanted to make sure Blue heard his voice. Sneaking up on a dangerous predator they didn't intend to kill would end badly for them. And Blue would recognize Owen's voice. That would hopefully keep her from attacking them on sight.

"Blue? Blue? Are you here? Well crap," Owen said, surveying the damage that the raptor had done to the place.

There was little permanent damage. Mostly it was just that Blue had made a mess. His garbage had been upended, probably from Blue looking for scraps in his trash can. The refrigerator had been left untouched, but his laundry hamper had not. Blue had knocked it over and dragged all Owen's dirty laundry over to his bed. There she'd piled it on top of his bed and made a nest for herself, where she must have slept last night. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen now.

"Well, at least we know she was here," Owen said. "And she may come back here. I think chances are better than not that she will."

"Should we wait? Or keep looking?"

Owen considered then went to his refrigerator, opening the freezer at the top. He pulled out two frozen steaks, and used his knife to open up the vacuum sealed packaging of one. That one he left on a plate on the counter.

"In case she comes back and we're not here," Owen explained.

"And the other?"

"In case we find her before she comes back here."

Suddenly, a familiar rasping cry came from the forest nearby, followed by a human shout.

Owen and Barry exchanged a look, then Owen snatched up the steak he'd just set on the plate and started running, Barry right behind him. They proceeded as quickly as they could while still being cautious, and Owen had to fight to concentrate on the situation they now had on their hands instead of on how that voice sounded like one he'd heard before.


	10. Chapter 10

Owen wasn't at the control room when Alan and Ian arrived. Alan didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. In all honesty, he wasn't ready for this. Maybe he never would be. Not that it would stop him, but having a little more time to prepare couldn't go amiss.

"Owen and Barry went looking for the uncontained raptor," Lowery, the man who seemed to be in charge of the control room told them when they asked. "Of the park's four raptors, three were killed in the Indominous Rex incident. The fourth one, Blue, has been AWOL since helping the T-Rex and the mosasaurus kill the Indominous. She responds to Owen, even obeys him to an extent, so Owen's gone to try to bring her in alive."

"Right. Well, it's imperative that we speak with Mr. Grady as soon as possible," Ian said. "The one raptor and the T-Rex are the only predators unaccounted for?"

"Oh, the rex is accounted for. She's not in her paddock, but we know where she is. We're keeping close tabs on her until we can bring her in. There are still some pterosaurs and dimorphodons on the loose. Nine pterosaurs and eighteen dimorphodons. Owen's ordered live ammo to be used on them, so we've made pretty good progress taking them down. But they're at a big disadvantage in wooded areas like where Owen and Barry are searching right now, so they're not a major issue for the moment. Especially not since it's Owen. The next one that attacks him'll probably get a roundhouse kick to the head. Since, you know, Owen's like the Chuck Norris of Jurassic World."

Alan raised an amused eyebrow at this assessment of his son. Ian muttered something about Lowery having a man-crush, under his breath so Lowery couldn't hear him. Alan barely even caught it.

"Do you know when they'll be back?" Alan asked.

"Probably not until the sun's about to set if I don't call him in sooner," Lowery said. "Owen wants to find his raptor, and until it's found and either killed or captured, we'll be working with one hand tied behind our back on the reclamation effort. Owen put a couple people on roofs with long scope rifles to take out any flyers they can, but that's all we feel safe doing until the raptor's brought in. Except feeding the non-free range animals, but that's done for the day."

"You said you can call him in sooner. You mean in case the T-rex starts heading his way?" Alan asked.

"Yep. See the map up there. That red dot is the rex. The white ones all the way over there are Owen and Barry. The others white dots are our snipers on the roofs. Well, they're not really snipers, except one, who was in the army, but they're acting as snipers now. Pretty cool, huh?"

Alan looked at Ian who he could see evaluating this set up in his mind.

"Kid knows his stuff," Ian finally decided. "Good call, having them use live ammo on the flyers."

"He ticked a lot of people off with that, but Owen wouldn't back down," Lowery commented.

"A good thing too. Any idea what a nightmare it would be for you folks if those things lived long enough to learn to avoid people with guns?" Malcolm asked. "You'd never reopen."

"Owen said something like that."

"Kid was right."

Alan felt a surge of pride for his son's instincts. Even if he worked with velociraptors, it looked like he had a good head on his shoulders. He had to, to have worked with them this long and not get eaten, Alan guessed, but that pride was still there.

"Would it be acceptable for us to go out and meet Owen and Barry, if we were armed?" Alan asked.

Ian shot him a look.

"If there's only one raptor unaccounted for, chances are low that it will find us before we meet up with Owen," Alan reasoned. "And as long as we're not out in the open, the pterosaurs and dimorphodons won't be a problem."

"In theory, no, but things never go how you expect them to," Malcolm cautioned.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Alan said.

Ian peered at him intently and seemed to read the situation. Alan didn't want to have his reunion with his son in front of such a big audience. And here, at the operations building, was where most of the thirty people who'd been flown back into the park were congregated.

"Well, as I said, it is imperative that we speak to Owen as soon as possible," Ian said, "And not over a radio, preferably. So, Dr. Grant's question stands. Would it be acceptable for us to arm up and head out to meet him?"

"Uh, I guess. It's no more dangerous than what Owen and Barry are doing, and you guys are the ones with the most experience with this kind of stuff," Lowery decided. "Let me just let Owen and Barry know you're coming."

When Lowery tried to raise Owen and Barry, however, all he could get on the radio was static.

"Of course. Communications failure. That's how it always starts," Ian muttered.

Alan gave him a dark look. "If that's how it always starts then isn't that too predictable to be chaos?"

Malcolm opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again scowling when he was unable to come up with a ready retort.

"We must be due for a storm," Lowery said. "Tropical thunder storms play merry hell with all wireless and radio reception on the island. We've weathered hundreds of them since the park opened and it wasn't lack of communication that caused the Indominous Incident."

"Can you pull up the weather? See when the storm's scheduled to hit?" Alan asked.

Lowery obeyed, stating, "We might not have conclusive data. Small thunder storms pass through here all the time, this being a rain forest and all. But, oh, there we go. Looks like we've got a good hour or two before it starts."

"And it's messing up your communications already?" Ian asked.

"Magnetism, man. Charged particles are already in the atmosphere, getting worked up. You're a doctor, shouldn't you know this?"

"Weather has nothing to do with mathematics except to provide a perfect example of chaos theory in that weather cannot be accurately predicted –"

"Oh yes it can-"

"For more than a few days in advance. Men have been trying for centuries, but still haven't managed. Computers were originally invented to try to predict the weather, but fail just as spectacularly as the almanac, which –"

"I'm going to take a gun and go out to meet Owen," Alan said, cutting off what would have become a very, very long rant on chaos. "He needs to know about the storm coming. You should bring in your guys on the roofs too. If you can call them in."

Ian followed him after trading a few parting shots with Lowery. Then they armed up and headed toward Owen's bungalow, using a tourist map that Lowery marked for them with a few service paths that were only for employee use, thus were left off of the map for tourists. The route that he marked for them, he assured them, was the one that was most likely to intersect with Owen and Barry's path, assuming they were doing what Owen said they were and checking the raptor enclosure, then going to Owen's bungalow. And one of the others at the control room assured them that they weren't likely to deviate from that plan, unless something happened. Owen was a dependable kind of guy who did what he said he was going to.

"I'd feel better if we were driving," Ian said, following just behind Alan, and scanning everything as they passed, watching for the loose raptor.

"Raptors can outrun a car on these winding roads. It wouldn't make much difference," Alan said.

"It would be a little protection from it, at the least. So, what do you think?"

"Of what? Your car idea?" Alan asked.

"No. What do you think of your son so far?"

Alan glanced at him sideways for a brief second before going back to scanning their surroundings. "He seems like a good man."

"I think so too. You can be proud of him at least," Ian said.

"No," Alan said bitterly. "I don't think I have the right to be proud of him. I didn't contribute to him becoming a good man. It's not my place to take credit for his accomplishments."

"Well, that's a very selfless and noble way to think, but also a very wrong way to think," Ian said. "Even if he grew up without you, he's still your son, and now that you both know it, you need to be proud of him. He might not need your approval, but there's still a part of every kid that wants their mom and dad to be proud of them."

"That's assuming he wants anything to do with me," Alan said.

"He will."

"And you figure that how?"

"Everything we know about him points to him being a rational, level-headed, open minded young man who goes out of his way to do the right thing," Ian said. "There's no way someone like that won't at least hear you out. And there's no way he's not going to feel something about the fact that you dropped everything and came down to find him the moment you learned about him."

When Ian put it like that it was far too easy to hope that this might go well. But a certain fact remained.

"You've never met his mother. I have a pretty good idea what she's spent his whole life telling him about – ah!"

The attack came from above. Above. The raptor had climbed up into a bloody tree! In its drop, it took Alan and Ian both down.

Alan saw the gun skitter out of Ian's hands, but he'd managed to hold onto his own. He quickly rose to one knee and aimed, but the raptor was too fast, and seemed to know exactly what guns did. Her tail whipped around, knocking Alan's aim off, then she darted in and pretty much tackled it out of his grip.

Ian was swearing a blue streak as he got back to his feet. He started to go for his gun, but a growl from the raptor stopped him. Alan froze, assessing the raptor in front of them, trying to gage its next movements.

The raptor, Blue, didn't attack or go for the kill, even though she had the clear advantage. She did move closer to Alan as he got back to his feet. Keen intelligence glittered in her eyes as she got closer, and she cocked her head from side to side, sniffing delicately, almost like a cat.

Ian moved toward the gun again, but Blue growled once more, stopping him. Satisfied, when he froze, she turned her attention back to Alan and sniffed him again. Then she started barking. Or doing the raptor equivalent of barking. At Alan.

Alan stared, wondering what was going on. He realized at the exact moment Ian seemed to.

"Alan. I think she knows. I think she can smell that you have much of the same genetic makeup as Owen."

"I think so too," Alan said. He was careful to keep his voice low and calm.

He had heard about animals, dogs and cats in particular, being able to single out relatives of their owners. There were too many instances to count when an animal would latch on to their owner's sibling, parent, or child after their owner died, even if it never met their owner's relative before. They just knew, presumably because they could smell it on them.

Blue barked at Alan again and appeared to grow frustrated when she didn't get the response she was looking for. She bared her teeth at Alan, who took a step back.

Then, before Alan could figure out his next move, _he_ appeared.

"Whoa! Whoa! Blue! Blue, right here! Eyes on me!"

Blue's head snapped up so fast, Alan was surprised she didn't get whiplash as she spun toward the man who'd just sprinted out of the jungle. She immediately lost interest in Alan and leapt toward the newcomer, stopping only a few feet away to bark at him.

"Hey Blue. Atta girl. That's my girl. Say, did you miss me?" Owen asked.

Blue cawed at him in answer.

"Yeah, I missed you too. Here, see what I've got for you. Ready? Catch." Owen tossed a large cut of meat into the air, at Blue, but Blue ignored it. Instead, she darted forward toward Owen, and for a horrible second, Alan thought she was going to kill him.

But Blue stopped short, regarding the hand that Owen had quickly stretched out again toward her, his palm facing her in a stopping motion. Then, very gently, Blue stretched her neck forward, touching her snout against Owen's hand.

Alan heard a sharp intake of breath from Ian beside him. By the time that noise was over though, so was the moment. Blue had backed away and circled around to retrieve the piece of meat from where it landed. While she was distracted by the meat, Owen moved so that he stood between the two doctors and the raptor, never taking his eyes off the predator.

And Alan, well, he never took his eyes off Owen. His mind went back briefly to the first time he'd seen a living triceratops, the dinosaur that had been his favorite as a child. He remembered thinking that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, but she didn't even come close to the sight before him now. The first time he'd laid eyes on his son.


	11. Chapter 11

Owen couldn't afford to pay much attention to Dr. Grant or Dr. Malcolm when he had a hungry raptor on his hands. He was able to position himself between them and Blue after Blue went for the first steak. But he wasn't able to keep a smile off his face as he watched her reaction to the frozen meat.

Blue bit down on it and worried it, frustrated when her teeth didn't sink into it as easily as they did into fresh meat. But she refused to give up on it, and by being persistent, managed to get a bite taken out of it.

"Owen Grady, I presume?" Dr. Malcolm asked.

"Yeah. But it's probably better if you don't talk right now, Dr. Malcolm. Don't want Blue's attention on you."

Their silence was equivalent to raucous agreement.

Owen waited until Blue had finished the first steak before taking his clicker out of his vet pocket and using it to get Blue's attention.

"Alright Blue, ready to go home?"

Blue chirped at him, almost like she understood. Owen smiled, being careful not to show his teeth.

"I'll take that as a yes. Alright. And, we're moving." When Owen started moving, Blue followed. No, scratch that. Blue trotted right up to stand beside Owen as he began leading the way to the raptor enclosure and stayed by his side, keeping pace with him like a faithful dog.

Warmth coursed through Owen's veins, affection for the wild animal beside him. He knew better than to start thinking of her as a pet or anything of the sort, but he instinctively knew that he wasn't in any danger from Blue. She wasn't tame by any means, but he was all the pack she had left. She wasn't going to turn on him, at least not right now.

The same couldn't be said for any other human, however. Dr. Grant and Dr. Malcolm both seemed well aware of this fact, as was Barry, who had remained silent throughout Owen and Blue's reunion, never lowering his tranq gun, always keeping the sites lined up on Blue. Barry followed them now, keeping a careful distance back so that even if Blue turned and charged, he'd have time to respond. To Owen's moderate surprise, Malcolm and Grant followed too, staying just behind Barry.

Once they got to the raptor enclosure Owen cut the other steak out of its vacuum packaging and tossed it to Blue. She went to work on it while Owen retreated from the enclosure. He half expected her to try to stop him, but though she kept a sharp eye on him the whole time he was leaving, Blue didn't try to cut him off or escape.

"Well," Owen said, turning to his audience, "Are we having fun yet?"

Dr. Malcolm laughed a strained little laugh and shook his head. Dr. Grant just stared at Owen, an odd look on his face.

"A vast improvement over where we were with her last week," Barry said, giving his assessment of Blue's behavior. "But it came at too great a cost."

Owen agreed. Three members of his pack killed were three too many. But he couldn't afford to think about them right now. Not when he had one left to take care of, and an island to take back from flying monsters. Besides, there was another situation that required his attention immediately, and that was dealing with these two doctors.

"I'm Owen Grady. This is my friend and partner in crime, Barry. And we already know who you are, Dr. Malcolm. Dr. Grant."

"Nice to meet you," Malcolm said, and stepped forward to shake hands with Owen then Barry.

Owen looked awkwardly at Grant, who was still staring at him with that unreadable expression. It was filling Owen with an uncertainly that made him very glad they'd put this off until after Blue was back in her cage. She would have been able to pick up on his uncertainty, and it would have made her skittish, and a skittish raptor was never a good thing.

Looking at Grant now, Owen got the distinct impression that Grant now knew what he hadn't known the last time they met. But he couldn't be sure, and if he was wrong, he didn't want to drop that bombshell.

Deciding to try and test the waters, Owen offered, "Dr. Grant. I know you don't remember me, but we met once, a long time ago. I was in high school then."

"I remember," Grant said in a strained voice. "You were the boy in the Firefly quote shirt."

Owen was surprised, but hid it. "So I was. 'Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.'"

He knows, Owen thought. He was almost positive now.

"Can I have a word with you in private?"

Yep. He definitely knows, Owen thought. He cut a quick look at Malcolm, who was already backing up, and realized that Dr. Malcolm knew too.

For a hot second, Owen felt something akin to panic. He started looking for a way out of this. But his good manners stopped him. He glanced at Barry and tried to give him an easy smile, but Barry seemed to see through it and only looked suspicious.

"Certainly," Owen said. "Step into my office."

He led the way up onto the catwalks above the enclosure and was surprised to see Blue was waiting for him. She'd perched underneath the closest walkway and was peering up, expectantly. When he appeared, she visibly relaxed and settled down slightly.

That, Owen realized, might have been why she'd let him leave so easily. She associated his position as being on the catwalks. Well, in one way that was useful. For now. But Owen was planning on making some changes. After letting Blue see the outside world, there was no way she would be content to only stay in the enclosure from now on. Owen would have to figure something out for her, to keep her from becoming an unbearable and violent escape artist. He'd also have to figure out a way to make up for the loss of her siblings. Velociraptors were social creatures and no research had been done on what happened when they were isolated for long periods of time. Right now he was the only pack she had left, and while he might be enough for the short term, he knew he wouldn't be for the long term. She needed a family.

"Owen," Alan said, startling Owen out of his thoughts. "I have something important to tell you. Something that you might already know but that I only just found out yesterday."

He definitely knew, Owen realized. He felt like maybe he should say something, let Grant know that he knew too, to spare him what was probably a very difficult and awkward thing for Alan I-Never-Want-To-Have-Children Grant to say, but suddenly it was like his heart had leapt up into his throat, and he couldn't speak.

Grant was watching him closely, clearly trying to gage his reaction before continuing. "I'm your father, Owen."

Owen swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod of his head. "I know," he said hoarsely. Then he admitted, "I've always known."

Alan looked a little surprised. But mostly like he didn't know how he was supposed to be feeling. "And you still came to my lecture?"

"That was why I came to your lecture," Owen said. He shuffled uncomfortably. "You mad?"

"Not at you. Why would I be mad at you?" Alan asked gruffly.

"Because maybe I should have told you then. Or because you never wanted a kid." Owen straightened slightly. "Not that I'm going to apologize for existing or anything, but maybe I should have told you who I was way back when."

"It wasn't you who should have told me that, son. Owen," Alan said his name quickly, almost like a correction. "I won't speak ill of your mother in front of you, but I can't forgive her for never telling me about you. Because I swear, I had no idea."

"I know," Owen said, to let Alan know he was off the hook. He'd figured that out back when Alan didn't even twitch at his name when he'd introduced himself.

"But if I had," Grant said, his eyes suddenly over bright, "I would have been there. It's true that I didn't want children, but I would have done my best for you. I wouldn't have been a perfect father. In fact, I probably would have messed up more times than either of us could count. But I would have been there for you."

Owen nodded in acceptance of this and tried to think of something to say. "I . . . I mean, it's ok. I guessed as much. My mom taught me to form opinions of people based on their actions instead of what people say about them."

Alan looked surprised. "That doesn't sound like Samantha."

"Well, she kind of taught me by example," Owen said. He deliberately didn't say that it had been her bad example that he had been trying not to follow in. For all her faults, and all their arguments, she was still his mother. He was glad that Alan was trying very hard not to do any mudslinging, because no matter how true what he said might be, then the two of them would have a problem. "But what I meant to say is, I don't hold it against you or anything. And, you don't need to feel like you have to be here now or anything. I do alright by myself, and I don't really need . . ."

Owen trailed off when Alan flinched. The expression on the older man's face was like he'd been sucker punched. Owen stared, feeling mildly horrified at this and quickly reviewed what he'd just said. What had he said to get this kind of reaction? What had he said wrong?

"Dr. Grant? Sorry. I don't know what I said wrong."

Alan flinched again, this time much less obviously, but Owen had spent the past few years studying reactions and movement. Alright, those reactions and movements had been in velociraptors, but the training to be perceptive transferred over into many other useful areas, and this was one of them.

"You can call me Alan, kid. Or . . . or whatever else you want. And I'm not here because I feel obligated. I'm here because . . . because I do want you. I want to get to know you."

Owen felt a pang in his chest. He couldn't think of what to say. Claire would be shocked. Owen speechless and without a witty retort? Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

"Alright," he managed finally. "I'd like that too. To get to know you."

Alan gave him an almost tentative smile, but it quickly vanished as they heard the sound of thunder in the distance. "Oh. That's right. We came to bring you back to the operations building. There's a storm on the way, and its magnetism is already messing up communications."

Owen frowned at that as well then said something he knew Alan wasn't going to like. "I just got Blue back in. I can't leave her yet."


	12. Chapter 12

Alan had the distinct feeling that this was where things were going to go sideways between him and his son.

He'd thought that everything was going a bit too smoothly. Owen was being far too rational, understanding, and polite. Their meeting had been going far better than he'd hoped or even thought it could. And if Owen couldn't quite believe that Alan was there because he wanted to be, not because he felt some kind of self righteous obligation, and if Alan couldn't work up the courage to suggest in so many words that Owen call him "Dad" or "Father" well those were things that could be worked on. Owen wanting to stay with a velociraptor while a tropical thunderstorm was approaching was something that Alan thought they'd have a much harder time working around. A part of him thought that he should just leave it and walk away, for the sake of peace between the two of them, but he found that he couldn't. Not if his son was putting himself in danger.

"You can't stay up on a metal catwalk when there's a thunderstorm on the way," Alan pointed out.

"I wasn't planning to. There's an empty storage shed adjacent to the pack's den. Not that there's a pack anymore, but that's beside the point. Part of one of the shed's walls is missing, so it's right up against the bars. I used to sleep there when we first moved the girls out of the nursery, to help them get settled in the new place."

"And you're planning on sleeping there now?" Alan asked incredulously. "When this island is in a state of emergency?"

"The biggest threat on the island just willingly followed me back into her enclosure," Owen said. "The second biggest threat is miles from here carving out a territory for herself. There's so much prey and carrion between her and this place right now that it's not even funny. And the flyers aren't going to be flying into any sheds. I'm in no more danger here than I'd be at the operations building."

"But the other people at the control room –"

"Were briefed on what I'd be doing if I got Blue home," Owen said. "We're finished for the day. All the animals have been fed. Tonight, Lowery can arrange for the helicopters we'll need to transport the rex after we tranq her. Tomorrow we can get that taken care of and put down the rest of the flyers. Then we can get the rest of the reclamation team here and start getting this island back in shape. But tonight, I'm staying with Blue."

"You and I both know how bad tropical thunderstorms can be," Alan said. "Is a shed really going to be protection enough?"

Owen motioned toward a nondescript building near the back of the raptor enclosure. "It's built to last, like the rest of this enclosure. When it comes to the predator paddocks, strength matters."

Alan refrained from pointing out that the shed wasn't actually part of the paddock. When he thought about it objectively, it had lasted for months, possibly years. He wasn't sure how old Blue was, but she was definitely full grown. It didn't look beaten and decrepit at all, meaning it would most likely last months, if not years more. Instead, he switched his focus to another thing that worried him.

"It's insulated against electricity?"

"Yep. The floor's rubber, and there's a layer of it in the walls and beneath the slope of the roof too. You don't have to worry about me," Owen said. "I can take care of myself."

There was nothing bitter or unfriendly about the way Owen said that, but it stung Alan all the same. Owen wasn't trying to throw Alan's absence his whole life in his face, but Alan couldn't help but feel like he should have been there for his kid when things like that were brought up. Yes, Owen could take care of himself, and had done so his whole life, but he shouldn't have had to.

There was a lot that Alan wanted to say. And even more that he wanted to do. Mainly, at the moment, dragging his son back to the operations building before the storm could get any closer. But he knew that now, being overbearing could be just as bad, and maybe worse, than being apathetic. As much as Alan wanted to take care of his son now, he knew that he had to accept that Owen was a full grown man who would likely resent it if Alan tried to restrict his independence.

Still . . .

"I'm worried about you. I know you can take care of yourself, but I know how dangerous dinosaurs can be," Alan said.

"I know how dangerous they can be too," Owen said. "Believe me, I know."

Alan believed him.

He still didn't like this, but the only arguments he had to make were ones based on his personal sentiment. Those wouldn't get him far here. If Owen weren't his son, he doubted that he'd be arguing. He didn't think he'd press the issue beyond giving a few cautionary words. But the fact was that Owen was his son. And Alan didn't know what to do.

"Be careful," he said. "Don't leave the shed unless it's an emergency, until the storm's over. There's no guarantee that we'll be able to hear you on the radio or your phone if you call for help."

Owen nodded seriously. "I'll take every precaution."

Alan didn't like this. What it finally came down to was that he knew he couldn't stop this and that arguing with Owen would do more harm than good for their relationship now. So he took a deep breath, then let it go.

"We'll talk more after the storm's over," Owen said, almost like he could tell what it was costing Alan to back down on this. "We'll, you know, catch up and everything."

Alan gave a strained smile. "Yeah. We can talk about raptors."

"You won't believe some of the things I've found out about them," Owen said, flashing a grin.

"I look forward to it," Alan said. And it was true, he did. But he had a bad feeling about the near future all the same.


End file.
